


Cover Up

by Mittendorfer



Series: Exposed [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Emo, Emolip Wobble, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, First Time, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Sexual Violence, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 01:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mittendorfer/pseuds/Mittendorfer
Summary: Kylo and Rey are connected. They don’t like it, they don’t want it, but they can’t deny it.She asks him to cover up and he wants her exposed.Is anyone telling the truth around here?





	Cover Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saffron_Darklighter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffron_Darklighter/gifts).



> Two events from SW:TLJ are played with and interwoven. The hand touching scene and the scene where Kylo destroys his hemet. I play loose with the actual dialogue, event ordering and - of course - some outcomes.
> 
> Hopefully my head canon agrees somewhat with actual canon.
> 
> We discover some of Kylo’s secrets and yes there is a suggestion of slash. I’m predominantly a slash writer. If Kylo being violent and sexually ambiguous upsets you, then I suggest you stop here. The poor emo cinnamon roll is a man; he’s definitely *not* a monk. 
> 
> (For lovers of slash though; get in!)
> 
> Advance Warning: heavy use throughout of the magnificent bastard’s emolip. Prepare yourselves.

_The breathing_.

 _The silence_.

Sensations flooded in that were so intense they forced Rey stop what she was doing and close her eyes. She could feel each individual beat of her heart.

_And his._

Their breaths overlapped, then came together. In and out and then in again.

“I’d rather not do _this_ right now.”

Rey looked to her left and right and then concentrated. She got a lock on his face.

 _Kylo_.

“You’re alone?”

“‘Course I am.”

Kylo laughed at Rey’s anger. “You’re not alone, I’m here.”

Rey tossed her head. “Yes, _you_ , obviously.”

“Believe me. I don’t _want_ to be here either.”

Rey bit the inside of her cheek. The petulance in Kylo’s voice - _Ben_. She _had_ to keep thinking of him as Ben - immediately annoyed her.

“Keeping you from _something_ important am I?” Her distaste was clear. By something she meant someone. Rey couldn’t countenance saying it aloud. The Supreme Leader; that _thing_ , Snoke.

_He held Ben’s life in his grasping fist._

Kylo ignored her sarcasm. “It looks dark where you are. Get nearer to the fire.”

Rey went towards the light before she’d stopped to think. She shouldn’t do anything that he asked of her, no matter how innocent. Not until she knew where this was going.

“I can see you now.”

Rey looked around the hut. There was nothing there that would give away her location. How did this _thing_ work anyway? Did this - whatever _‘this’_ was - even have a set of rules?

She turned back to the fire wondering how much Ben’s mind could see.

Rey startled. “You’re naked!”

Kylo snorted. “I am not.”

“Can’t you cover up? Put on a _cowl_ or something?” Rey turned her back and immediately slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. Smart Rey, _so_ smart. As if turning your back would help when you were connected by a force you didn’t really understand and couldn’t control.

Kylo stayed impassive. He enjoyed Rey’s discomfort far more than he thought he would. He had no intention of doing what she asked; let her be offended.

“You’re still-”

“-don’t be such a _child_.”

Kylo walked to the other side of his chamber on The Supremacy. He caught his reflection in a mirror and turned around so that Rey could see through his eyes. Hopefully she’d realise that he was wearing trousers. He walked back to the bed.

Kylo had provoked her again, _so_ easily. Rey tried to swat the irritation away. They weren’t _that_ far apart in age; who was Ben to call _her_ a child? She swallowed. A child couldn’t have done the things Rey had in order to survive.

“Why is this happening, Ben?”

Kylo scowled. The use of his name was akin to something distasteful to him. Or perhaps, painful.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

His voice was so low now. Rey strained to hear properly.

“You _know_ why.”

Rey knew but she wanted Ben to acknowledge it. She must make him to talk about it. He had to see how his hatred for Han and that awful, _monstrous_ act had brought them to this place.

_What had he just said?_

She hadn’t spoken aloud and Rey couldn’t be absolutely certain that Ben wasn’t reading her mind but... there it was.

“I said I didn’t hate my father.”

_______________________________

 

Oh that had _stung_. The pain as Kylo barrelled down the corridor was almost _physical_.

The Supreme Leader had set it all out before him. He’d seen _greatness_ in him. He’d seen Kylo as the true heir to Vader. His powerful Skywalker blood was the key to their shared triumph over the Rebellion. Kylo’s raw talent - _nurtured by Snoke_ - gifted him legitimacy and primacy over all others.

_Nothing would be beyond Kylo Ren’s grasp now._

But then the despair of it; Snoke had _torn_ him down

Kylo was _too_ much like his father. He was weak and vain; with a boundless ego.

_That barb had ripped open his soul anew._

The doors closed behind him and he looked down at the helmet in his hand. It was his most visible link to Vader. Snoke had made him feel _ashamed_ for wearing it. It was a symbol of his mistakes. Kylo was a weak, pathetic boy playing at being the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy.

He had to obliterate it. The feeling _and_ the helmet.

What Kylo had felt for Snoke up until now wasn’t love. It was a sick, fearful reverence. What a true disciple of the dark _should_ feel for his master.

But any kind of love - _Kylo knew_ \- was a weakness. He had to erase that failure the only way he knew how.

He must _kill_ it.

It was quickly accomplished. Kylo snarled with rage then rammed the helmet against the wall controls. He felt it shatter under his fingers so he did it again, and _again_. Kylo threw the whole weight of his body into the wall. The generated force propelled his fist through the broken remnants into the exposed electronics behind. Sweat darkened his collar and ran into his hair from the exertion. But he didn’t stop; he _couldn’t_. As he wrecked the interior of the transport lift images of those he’d loved, and hated, swam in his mind.

_Love. Hate. Lust. It didn’t matter. An end to doubt felt so good._

Each blow heralded a _death_ ; of his pretence, of his weakness _and_ his subservience. In their place came an intoxicating, righteous rage that gave him new purpose.

_He knew now what he had to do._

Kylo slumped against the broken wall panel and pressed pause to the upward trajectory of the lift. His put his head back and panted; the air he sucked down tasted sweet. Kylo groaned; he had a _need_. This really wasn’t the place but still. His ran his gloved fingers down his body until he reached his cock. Kylo shut his eyes.

_He was hard._

The connection he’d shared with Rey had been _powerful_. The creation of it though was beyond his skill. The amount of energy it would have taken to sustain it would have killed him. Or her.

_He wished he could summon her now._

Rey messed with his head pure and simple. She gave him brief, bright glimpses of what he _could_ have; and _what_ he could be. In turn his dark desires took those thoughts and twisted them. In that respect his relationship with Rey was similar to what he did to Hux. With enough guile he knew he could _dominate_ Rey just as easily as the General.

She would let him in and he’d bring her over to the dark side.

_Turning her was a heady aphrodisiac._

Fuck he was so _hard_. He curled his fingers into a fist and _squeezed_.

_The memory of Rey’s voice calling him a monster surfaced to mock him._

Kylo screamed in frustration and smashed his fist into the display panel. The last vestige of his helmet dropped to the floor. He restarted the lift and wiped the loose hair from his face.

The closest facsimile he had to Rey - _right now_ \- was Hux. He would have to do.

The doors opened.

The startled crew cast their eyes quickly down in obedience as he pushed past them.

“Ready my ship! And send General Hux to my quarters. _Now!_ ”

____________________________________________________________________

 

Before Rey could reply Kylo changed tack and tone. “Where _is_ he? Is my _Uncle_ there?”

“I don’t know-“

“-don’t _play_ with me Rey.”

Rey glanced over her shoulder through the slit that served as a window. Luke, _of course_ , wasn’t there.

“We’re alone.”

_And now they were back to where they had started._

Kylo’s bent his head and his expression was lost in the shadow of his chamber. “You’re _never_ alone.”

Seconds passed and the only thing Rey heard was the roar of the wind outside and the disembodied cries of the roosting Porgs. Was he still _there_? She felt the need to fill the silence.

When Kylo’s face swam up out of the darkness Rey was shocked. He looked _so_ tired. More weary than a man of his age had any right to be. Whatever burdened him, it _gnawed_ at his soul.

Kylo closed his eyes and his eyelashes cast long spidery shadows.

“Why is this happening to _us_ , Rey?” His lower lip trembled as he repeated her question back to her.

_He caught her off guard._

Just _where_ should Rey start? Should she say his mother had sent her here to recruit Luke for the Rebellion’s latest battle, in the seemingly endless struggle against tyranny? That she was there to _save_ Kylo from Snoke and bring him back to the light? Should she admit to her frustration, her uncertainty, and her _confusion_ surrounding the whole sorry mess?

Should she tell him what she truly _longed_ for?

_The fundamental necessity to know who she was._

Was it Kylo who was there - _here_ \- now, to save her? The enormity of it was paralysing.

The word ‘us’ needed acknowledgement, but Rey was scared. “I-I don’t know. I-“

“-I can guess.”

The pain - _and the sheer inevitability of sorrow_ \- in Kylo’s eyes made Rey move her hand involuntarily towards him.

“Tell m-me.”

Kylo saw that Rey was watching his mouth. He lent in to her.

“We both think we can change each other. That if we can pull the other to us, just a _little_ , we’ll be consumed together by the darkness. Or the light.”

Again Rey struggled to hear him over the storm outside. Kylo’s quiet desperation was utterly compelling and demanded all her attention; but he spoke so softly. His words became fragile things whipped away by the wind. They were as tenuous as the connection that bound them together.

_She leant closer._

Rey looked at Kylo’s face; she couldn’t take her eyes from his lips. They _drew_ her in.

She _had_ to find the right reply. They were reaching for common ground and she didn’t want to turn him back to anger with a careless word. Caring for what Kylo thought, feeling _anything_ but hate for him, had seemed inconceivable to her.

This was the man remember who’d revelled in his title of _monster_ : the one _she’d_ given him. Yet now she felt pity and compassion for him and wanted to shoulder his suffering and loss.

_But that wasn’t the most important thing._

Something fundamental had _changed_ and she needed to know.

“Will you make that c-choice, Ben?”

Rey’s words felt like a stab to his chest. _Choice_. Such a small word but it was all encompassing. It was the word that was the sum and balance of Kylo’s life.

Choice was an illusion for him. Kylo’s mother, his father, his master, his uncle; the whole unfair universe had _forced_ this choice on him.

The implications of that choice were _vast_.

Ben hadn’t been equipped to make that call then and Rey was asking the same thing of Kylo now.

 _It was all their fault._  
_________________________________

 

Kylo watched Hux in the mirror as he pulled on his uniform. He did it hurriedly and without care. His injuries needed to be covered up, and once that was done Hux obviously wanted to be somewhere else as quickly as possible.

No parting words were said and the door closed silently behind the General.

_Kylo laid back down and thought about Rey._

She would come to him. He was _convinced_ of it. Whether she brought Skywalker with her or no, it didn’t matter. She would _come_. Rey would offer to help him. To find a way through his conflict. She’d give everything to _turn_ Kylo, as he had given _everything_ to Snoke.

_Damn why did he keep returning to Snoke?_

The Supreme Leader would criticise his strategy of course. He’d call Kylo out for indulgence and hubris.

It was the tool of the _weak_ to use love in the pursuit of greatness.

Kylo swallowed and thought about his loves.

_He had none._

He realised that was a lie as soon as his brain put forward the thought. He _did_ love; it just wasn’t conventional. Kylo craved the dark side and the sweet release it offered. When he gave himself _fully_ over to it, his mind and his soul stopped their infernal spin. He _knew_ peace.

 _All of the questions would stop_.

The expression of that kind of love was _violence_. That was what he shared with Hux. The complete dominance of one over another; and they both knew which way it would eventually end. Kylo’s ‘love’ for him would always show itself in derision and violence whether on The Supremacy’s bridge or in his bed. It was wrong really to label _that_ love.

_It wasn’t weak._

A better description was _power_. Kylo used sex both as a punishment _and_ an escape. It _honed_ Hux’s weakness, as Snoke had told him, into an effective tool. One day the General might try to kill him for it, but for now it kept Hux in line. The _pleasure_ that Kylo got from the transaction was beyond _physical_. It was his release valve. His conflicted emotions and yes, his _loneliness_ , were temporarily banished.

_That wasn’t love._

________________________________

 

“Will _you_ make that c-choice, Ben?”

When he raised his eyes to meet hers, Rey was totally floored by his anguish. Kylo’s face was wet. His eyes, his nose and yes, his _lips_ were swollen and red. She could see the deep pain and misery her questions were causing.

How could anyone not _respond_ to that level of suffering? She let her own tears fall and didn’t wipe them away.

_Kylo’s fingertips were in touching distance of hers._

“I’ve never been able to make that choice.”

For once Kylo was telling a simple truth. The choice had been _forced_ on him. It was _never_ his to make.

_His mother was to blame._

She was _everything_ to the Resistance. The Princess was a beacon of hope for the forgotten; a warrior, a leader and more. Her _importance_ to the galaxy was beyond question.

She’d told him since he was a small child that he was the first in a new generation of Jedi. Ben would continue to fulfil the Skywalker bloodline’s purpose. He would bring hope and ensure justice and peace reigned throughout to the galaxy. He was - _like her_ \- a living symbol of the Republic. That weight was _significant_ on him, but she didn’t help him share it. All she could do was _tell_ him. _Repeat the words_. Demand of him that he _submit_ to the inevitability of his birth. As a mother, she was a _failure_. She was everything to him and _nothing_.

_She’d given him away._

She wasn’t, she _couldn’t_ be his mother.

_His father was to blame._

Han couldn’t even be bothered to raise him. He’d just _gone_. Kylo couldn’t be like him, even if he’d wanted. He couldn’t make Han’s choices and keep them as his own. A carefree life, pleasing just himself was _denied_ to Ben. His father had used his considerable charm, cunning and his looks to get what he wanted. Kylo wasn’t above using the same tools, but he’d seen through his father’s strategies. Han was the embodiment of vanity and _weakness_. Whenever he was faced with a hard decision, he just _ran_.

_He’d given him away._

Han was no _father_ to him.

_His uncle was to blame._

Luke Skywalker was the very _worst_ of them. He taken Ben in with the promise of knowledge. A promise of answers to _all_ of his questions. He was separated from Leila and Han but his uncle had extended his hand and offered him sanctuary.

More than that, Luke had offered him _love_.

_His growing conflict would end, Ben’s soul could be in balance._

But what had Skywalker done? He’d _betrayed_ him.

In the act of Luke’s betrayal Kylo Ren had been born. Ben’s confusion and pain; his _struggle_ with the dark had earned him a death sentence. Instead of resolution and peace his uncle gifted him violence and _death_.

Maybe Kylo should have thanked him?

_Ben Solo was dead, long live Kylo Ren._

Luke Skywalker had taught him a valuable lesson and Han Solo had paid the price. All of them really had a hand in Ben’s death. His journey from the light into darkness was their doing. His mother, his father, the Jedi religion, his uncle, the rebellion, and of course Snoke.

Now it was _Rey’s_ turn.

_It was all their fault._

They were all his teachers and they had to pay.

If you loved something; let it go. _Kill it._ Love was a weakness that would take you down with it.

 _Kill_ it and let the past _die_.

 

The moment had come: Rey wanted to reach out to him. To still his shuddering and ease his pain. She had to tell him.

 _Now_.

She breathed in and tried to stop her tears. “Let m-me _help_ you. You _can_ choose. You can choose _love_ , Ben. You can turn aside from hate.”

She saw the fire return to Kylo’s eyes. His anger was tempered by his evident distress but the fire was back.

“Is _that_ what we have in this moment, Rey? Is that what we are fighting for? _Love?_ ”

Rey nodded. Love was what the Force boiled down to. Accepting love brought balance into your heart. Balance meant you had to turn away from hate and violence and greed. Love was more powerful than hate. It _had_ to be.

_Love could save them all._

Kylo rubbed at his blotchy eyes. “Is that what you think Luke and Leia can offer you? _Love?_ ” He spat out the word like so much bile. His family weren’t _capable_ of love; except for themselves.

_They’d never freely given it to him._

“If you think that’s what you and Luke have, you’re _wrong_. You think you have a teachers love for his student? A father’s love for his child? That way of thinking is _weakness_. You _have_ nothing, you _are_ nothing-”

Kylo dropped his head and whispered, “-but not to _me_.”

Finally their hands _touched_.

_It only lasted for an instant, but that moment contained lifetimes._

Each of them saw the other‘s future.

Rey saw Ben restored. Kylo Ren was _defeated_. She had turned him back towards the light. That was how they would _win_. Not by bringing Luke back to the Resistance but by _turning_ Kylo Ren.

With Ben Solo at her side, _together_ , they would turn the tide. The spark in them would ignite a galaxy’s worth of hope! The Force was _with_ them, it was _in_ them. They were _joined_ irrevocably by it.

Both their destinies had brought them to this point. Kylo’s birth was entitled and noble; her’s was common and base born. But _that_ didn’t matter. Old archetypes didn’t _matter_ anymore.

They were both _equally_ important in the Force. 

She saw it _all_ now; it was _so_ clear!

 _They were the flame_. _They were the fire that would burn the First Order down!_

 

Kylo _doubted_ everything that he had said. He doubted - in this moment - what his _true_ feelings and intentions were.

Was he just playing the _part_ of the heartbroken man? Or was he really _broken_?

Kylo had _planned_ for this. The _moment_ when Rey would finally reach out to him. In _touching_ they would disclose their deepest desires and their greatest fears. Their fingers would become a _conduit_ to their souls. He’d used all of his father’s cunning to _hide_ what he truly felt. Since the connection had opened, he’d lied and dissembled. He’d _given_ her his tears and his trembling.

_But the question remained._

Was it all an _act,_  or was he truly _lost_?

Could she _feel_ his conflict now and did she _believe_ it was due to Kylo’s desperate search for love and acceptance? Did she think she could _turn_ him back towards the light?

Did he also believe this was so?

_He was the master here._

It was just the _appearance_ of conflict to cover his deceit. It _had_ to be.

His treachery was so vast; if he could pull it off, this one act could change the order of the galaxy. His betrayal of everything Rey thought he was offering would crush her.

_Then she would be his for the taking._

He had entered in to this bargain willingly, he offered up to her his grief, his _true_ pain and she had _swallowed_ it down. Rey had made _his_ pain _hers_.

It was however, just a stratagem. A _cover_ for his true intent; to bring Rey into darkness.

_But still the question could not be answered._

Conflict roiled back and forwards in his mind. _Never_ decided. Never at _rest_.

The force she wielded _penetrated_ him. It encompassed and bound him.

_It went beyond what he knew._

This wasn’t the ecstasy from the _penetration_ of sex. This wasn’t the _euphoria_ of power, nor it’s release. The twisted version of familial love that Kylo had received up until now paled before it.

It was Rey, and _this_ was the force at it’s purest.

_This was universal love._

________________________________________

 

The moment had passed. Luke’s plaintive cry of “Nooooooo!” saw an end to it.

The force of his power brought the hut down upon Rey’s head and severed her connection to Kylo.

_He was truly gone._

In that moment she felt hate.  
______________________________

 

Kylo plunged his fist through the table beside his bed. The _anger_ he felt for Luke was overwhelming. He struggled to get his breathing under control and made himself take long breaths in to compensate. Skywalker didn’t deserve his anguish, he was _nothing_ to him.

Kylo caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was a _mess_.

The lips that Rey had watched so intently were swollen and wet. Kylo pulled off his other glove and wiped away the tears and saliva. He covered his face with his palms and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets.

His eyes _hurt_. His _heart_ hurt. He’d come close.

_Too close._

He looked into the mirror again. Kylo concentrated on watching himself gain control of his emotions. His face became impassive.

_That was his mask._

Kylo got up from his bed and went to the transport lift. He was _himself_ again. He was Kylo Ren once more.

He strode through the massed ranks of Stormtroopers and he could feel their fear of him. That was _good_. That was how it _should_ be.

Kylo could see Phasma in the distance on the hanger deck; he walked towards the Captain.

_She would come. He was certain of it._

Rey would _come_.


End file.
